Raising sun
by Babel-english
Summary: Oneshot. When only light can bring life back.


**Auteuse**: Babel (babel121yahoo.fr)  
**Titre **: Raising Sun  
**Base **: Final Fantasy 7  
**Genre :**Poetic and sad, a little AU also ;;  
**Couples **: There is one suggested but there isn't any precisions on the partner, it's like you want… (Even if there are some little precisions that would delight at least one fan ;;;)

**Disclamer **: I don't own Vincent Valentine, he belongs to the nice people of Squaresoft whom I borrow him

Sorry for this text non-beta…

**RAISING SUN**

In the darkness, a gigantic castle is raised. Its big towers rise up proud and rigth, seeming to pierce the sky with their pointed roof. The outline of the building is hardly distinguishable, its black walls melting with the night that surround it. Only a few ligthnings from a distant strom enable to discern it in this black night. Those streams of light also reveal a human-like silhouette.

It's a man, sitting on one of the balcony's edge, his slender legs floating in the gap below him. A heavy red cape surrounds him, undulating around him of a fluctuating flexible wave with the wind which embraces it of its breath. His long ebony hair follows the same movement and a dark crown wraps the face of this deposed king of which the eyes shine as two ruby having some intern lights and gleaming in the middle of the night. His right hand is simply posed on his knees but his left one is tended opposite him, revealing the gilded metal which replaces it. The long fingers clawed are folded up on the palm convex towards the sky, except the sharp-edged index which indicates the horizon opposite him, like defying the inescapable event to be held.

He remains thus motionless, perfect statue from his port and his attitude, whereas its environment evolves gradually, almost imperceptibly. All start with a light lighting of the night, which from black passes to a dark and major blue which is degraded in a myriad of colors when the solar star decides to show one of its rays. Never a pink had appeared so harmonious to him that the one which the vault of heaven put on at this time, mixture of purple and crimson, addition of blue cobalt. Improbable union of colours but splendid result.

Slowly, the life takes again its kingdom against the darkness of the night. The silhouettes of the beings are distinguished little by little and the sounds reappear of the torpors of the sleep. Initially tiny, rustle of sheets, streaming of rainwater, the noises are becoming increasingly sound, pépiement birds, howls of some savage animals, welcoming the new day.

He observes all that with a fascinated eye, him which, being of the Night, had not been able to contemplate this spectacle of the awakening of the life since thousands of years. He observes this world go back moving, in total opposition with his own eternal, fixed, inalterable existence. It observes these transitory beings begin their short but so sharp life. These creatures which, such fires of straw, are born to die.

This life which he had known before but of which he had forgotten even the existence. Nevertheless, she had remembered itself to him with the presence of this man, this human who even incarnated the life. This being filled so much with joy in life that it had revived this flame in him and had relearned him to exist and love.

But of course, each alive being is mortal in spite of its thirst for living and its love for the life. And when the life of his lover had come to a end, his dull and infinite life taken again, its monotony automatically finding its reference marks and its loneliness falling down to him heavily on the shoulders.

However, he had not forgotten this pseudo-life which had ignited him. He had not been able to erase this hope which had embrace his heart and thus it decided to take again this life that he had lost, to recover his life, but also his death.

So he's sitting on one of the balconies of its residence, that giving full sight towards the East, fixing the horizon at the place where the gilded ball rose now of its bed located under the line separating the ground from the sky. Indicating it with his finger, he beckons to it to come to seek him. To bring his life to him and his death as well.

It is initially in its arm that he feels the effects of it, small tinglings, feelings for a long time unknown and who return painfully. But he does not stumble, remains perfectly motionless and on the contrary, smiles to feel something after all this time.

Smoke starts to rise from his member tended opposite him and he feels this one melting in his sleeve. The steel hand not having anymore support falls heavily into the vacuum, rebounding against the stone wall in a metal crash deafening. Soon, the tinglings seize his whole body and, it's with the eyes fill of tears that he feels his soul flash back to the depths of his heart to set him ablaze last once before flying away for always out of his body envelope reduced in ashes scattered by the hot wind which rises.

When the solar star reaches its ultimate place in the vault of heaven, there does not remain any trace of him except a gilded metallic lustre at the foot of a stone wall and a red fabric fixed on the branches of a tree in which a bird decided to pick of fibres for its nest.

Life takes again its inescapable course. Pitiless and yet so lenient.

**END **


End file.
